


Unknown Depths

by DiamondDove



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: I'm sorry I'm terrible at tagging, M/M, Mild Fluff and Angst?, maybe feels?, thalassophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27899488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondDove/pseuds/DiamondDove
Summary: There was one problem to becoming Elias Bouchard: He suffered from thalassophobia so severe it carried over after the body hop
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	Unknown Depths

The only con of becoming the man that once was Elias Bouchard was that he was deathly afraid of the ocean. Afraid to the point that the fear carried over from the original mind of Elias.

It wasn't even a real setback. After all, who would be heading out to sea when they work an office job in London with everything they needed?

Apparently, if the one person you let yourself love invited you on a weekend boat trip.

And this was how the man known as Elias Bouchard, head of The Magnus Institute, Servant to The Ceaseless Watcher, found himself miles off of shore, surrounded by water, and more than a little unnerved.

He hated this.

He hated the sound the water made, he hated how he couldn't tell if anything was around him unless he made an effort to Look, he hated the salt smell of it, he hated the chilled breeze, he hated the fog and he hated the rocking of the waves.

And what he hated most of all was the way the ocean managed to scare him.

He was supposed to be above this. He was supposed to be the one who caused fear, not the one that succumbed to it.

But he didn't know what was out there. He didn't know what was in the water.

But he  _ could _ know.

So he sighed, hoped that Peter wouldn't sense his use of power, and reached out.

He broadened his senses, let his vision dip below the surface of the water, just to Know what was there, just to See.

Fish, the harmless kind, the ones without the rows and rows of teeth. The ones traveling in glittering schools of silver and scales. Instinctually fearful of attack. Instinctually never straying from the school.

Jellyfish farther out, a patch of them. No brain to think with. No brain to fear with. Little blobs of clear stinging gel-flesh. 

Nothing that could harm him there.

Deeper now, where the light begins to dim, where things get odd. Things that can eat things larger than themselves. Things with too many teeth. Things that he didn't want to see but he had to secure himself. The fish begin to get weird. They begin to look odd. Strange adaptations. Bigger eyes.

More jellyfish, less of them, still floating along with the waves and the current.

Nothing that could harm him there, either.

Deeper still, the light is gone now. The fish are strange. More teeth. Too many teeth. Too many for their jaws. Too dark. It's harder to See. It's harder to make everything out. He should stop. He knows he should stop. He's going to use too much energy Searching.

He pulls himself out, shuddering against his will, drawing himself away from the temptation of Searching for every single thing. He feels somewhat safer now. There's nothing around the boat right now that could hurt him. No threat against him. Nothing coming out of the deep for him. Not yet. He'd have to check to make sure later. But not yet. 

"You seem tense."

Elias almost jumps. Peter's next to him now, materializing out of the mist. He's here though, a form of comfort Elias refuses to admit he enjoys.

"It's cold," Elias says, steadying his voice, hiding his fear under boredom and irritation. "I didn't anticipate it."

"Couldn't Know the weather forecast?" Peter said, lightly teasing. He knew, didn't he? He knew Elias was scared. But maybe he didn't. Maybe he was just trying to make a joke.

"I didn't bother, and I didn't account for the sea wind," Elias said, drawing his tailored jacket around him, trying not to shiver.

"Were you only Looking now so you could see your mistakes?" Peter said. Elias looked at him. He was doing that thing again, where he was almost misting away, where the edges of his form were blurring, the colors of his jacket desaturating and shifting, and his hair seemed to be fog around the edges. He knew Elias would either be mad at him or be silent or give in.

Elias decided not to answer. Peter would stay then, and he could sort of distract himself from the ocean.

There was silence for moments, then minutes. Peter stood there, resolidified, letting Elias edge just a little closer.

"Never thought you'd be the type to be afraid silently," Peter murmured.

Elias didn't answer. He didn't want to.

"Always thought you'd launch yourself into some sort of insane panicked hysterics, ramble on about whatever made you scared,"

"Peter," Elias mutters, tensing up. He doesn't want to admit to it. Admit to it and it’s not a secret anymore. A weakness to be exploited.

"Elias," Peter responds, smug now. Not in the way that most people are smug, he isolates himself too much to really pull that one-off, but he's smug nonetheless. Elias knows this.

"...Well you don't need to be so smug about it," Elias says, muttering again, hating admitting to it. 

"The elusive Head of the Magnus Institute, afraid of the ocean," Peter says, smirking. Oh, he's enjoying this now. "Is that just you, Jonah, or is it the body you stole?" he wonders.

"Shut up." Elias hisses, fists clenching at his sides, nails digging into his palms.

"Don't like being afraid, Elias?" Petter murmured, his voice soft as he leaned in to speak into Elias's ear.

Elias hissed, eyes flashing, the very air seeming to charge with energy as he turned his gaze on Peter. But the boat captain had been anticipating that and was already mist by the time Elias turned to where he'd stood.

Elias sighed and stared at the spot where Peter had been before. The energy eased back, Elias powered down. He wouldn’t make the effort to find Peter in the fog. He’d found over the years that he could never get himself mad enough to really want to hurt Peter by Looking.

But it was always like this, Elias got defensive and Peter went and misted away. 

How terribly tragic. He was a servant of the Eye, feeding the Lonely with his romantic pursuits.

Lovely to know that despite the press of the waves, the abyss of Eye-knows-what beneath them, they still played this game of dancing around each other. Defensive. Backing out. Never close enough, yet always drawn in.

He lived a tragedy, and barely even managed to profit off of it.

Elias sighed and headed below decks. No use dwelling on his terrible taste. He wanted to be warm. No more of this wind and this salt and this chill. Maybe the waves would be quieter there. 

Maybe he could distract himself.

As it turns out, after pacing across the wooden planks for what seemed to be hours, trying to avoid thinking about the water and what dwelled within it, he could not distract himself. He finally sat down on the floor, crossing his legs, folding gloved hands together, and gave in to the urge to Watch. 

He Watched everything in the water around the boat. He  _ needed _ to Watch it. He  _ needed _ to Know what was there. So he could be sure that he was safe. Sure that there was nothing swimming up from the depths to hunt him.

He was so focused on the water that he didn't notice when Peter finally materialized belowdecks. All his senses were trained on the sea, trained on the things in it. He didn't notice Peter shaking his shoulder for at least five minutes, and when he did notice the captain was frantic, maybe actually panicked.

Elias only had the time to mutter something about deep water before the exhaustion he built up from Watching for so long hit him hard and he passed out.

_________________________________________

The first thing Elias noticed as he drifted back into the waking world, was that he was warm, and wrapped in heavy salt-smelling blankets. The second was that he could smell coffee.

He instinctively attempted to Know what was around him. All it did was make the smell of coffee stronger, the blankets feel heavier, and send a jolt of dizzying pain through his forehead. He gritted his teeth to stop himself from crying out. He'd spent too much time Seeing yesterday. Looking too deep into the ocean. Pushing his limits. He'd managed to exhaust himself.

"I know you're awake."

Peter. Peter was here. Elias cracked his eyes open and blinked blearily at the room. It was lit by lanterns and flame, casting flickering and swaying shadows as the boat rocked.

"You know serving the Lonely makes me uncomfortably aware of people around me," the captain said.

"Didn' know you were there," Elias muttered, shifting slightly. His head hurt. A dull, throbbing pain that he could feel breathing against his skull. He couldn't properly focus on anything. For all he knew, the only thing in the world now was the fabric around him, the sway of the flickering light, the smell of coffee, and Peter's voice.

"Exhausted yourself that much, huh?" Peter said. His voice was soft, and if Elias didn't know better, he would've thought that he could hear  _ worry _ in Peter's voice

"Sp'ose so," Elias responded, pulling the blankets closer around him, closing his eyes again. 

The pair of them fell silent, but instead of the usual tense silence, with unsaid snarky remarks hanging in the air between them, this was… comfortable. Elias could make out the sound of Peter sipping what he assumed was coffee, the soft creaking of the boat, and the muffled waves. He drew the fabric up around his head, over his ears, muffling the noise of the water as much as he could. Eeugh. He hated the ocean.

"Why'd you invite me out here?" Elias asked quietly, half-opening his eyes, trying to find Peter in the room. But without being able to use his usual gifts from the Eye and with his monocle… somewhere but not here, his eyesight was far less than ideal.

"I don't know," Peter said, his voice fading out, like it always did when he was about to mist to avoid things. 

"Don't go, Peter," Elias said, a rare thread of desperation making its way into his voice.

There were a few moments of silence, during which Elias frantically looked around, and tried to sit up a little too quickly, sending his head spinning.

"You would have made an excellent servant to the Lonely, Elias. You're so desperate for someone to be there, but no one ever sticks around," Peter said softly. Elias found him in the room, and squinted, trying to properly make him out. Was that just his terrible vision, or was he going to mist away? Leave him alone here with the flickering light and the sound of the ocean? Peter did serve the Lonely, abandoning him with the ocean wouldn't be out of character...

But instead, Peter sighed and sat down on the cot beside Elias. "If it makes you feel any better, you're wrapped up in my jacket under that blanket and I'd rather not catch a cold out there, so I’m going to be here unless you give it back or get too annoying."

Elias paused and squinted at what he'd pulled over his ears under the assumption that it was a blanket. He hadn't registered the metal buttons, the seams, the collar. He hadn't even registered why the salt scent, in particular, was so familiar. But it was comforting. Especially because he knew that if he had the jacket, Peter would stay and he wouldn’t be stuck here.

"Good to know." He muttered, not making any move to hand the heavy coat over.

"I’m not saying I want to leave you here, but… can I have my jacket back?" Peter asked.

Elias didn't answer. Not out loud. Slipping his own arms into the jacket sleeves, and pulling it on over his own coat was answer enough.

Peter sighed. "Alright." He paused, sipping at his coffee. "You know, of all things to be afraid of, I never expected you to fear the one place I manage to get any proper comfort out of."

"Peter..."

"What even is it about the ocean that you find so terrifying? I'd think it's not being able to Know everything that's in it, but I don't want to assume anything," Peter said. He knew he was right, of course. 

Elias glared at him, trying to avoid answering the question.

“Ah, so it  _ is _ the lack of knowledge,” Peter said. “You would hate to be Forsaken. I’d have to send you to the shores of the Lonely. It’s lovely for me, but for you… well. I doubt the Lonely would care. The increased fear would fuel it.”  
  
“Peter,” Elias said again. This time it was a warning. “Don’t make me Look at you.”  
  
“Oh Elias… you can’t. You’ve exhausted yourself.” Peter said softly, taking another sip of his coffee.  
  
Elias almost lunged forward to wrangle Peter where he sat. In fact, he tried to. But his headache hadn’t eased, and the moment he moved forward, really moved forward, he fell back and had to press his hands against his head, gritting his teeth.  
  
And then there was Peter.   
  
And instead of Forsaking Elias, throwing him to the shores of the Lonely while he couldn’t defend himself, or even softly mocking him, he just planted a gentle kiss on his forehead and held the sides of his face in his hands. “I am sorry I brought you out here. I didn’t know you were scared of it like this. I don’t really understand your fear, but I won’t try to make it worse today.”  
  
“And  _ I _ don’t really understand how  _ you _ can serve the Lonely and then do things like this,” Elias muttered, the pain and the surprise of Peter not throwing him away making him defensive.  
  
“Because despite what you serve, you, Elias, are hopelessly lonely. And we aren’t too different because of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I just couldn't stop thinking about how Ben Meridith is afraid of the ocean LonelyEyes but with thalassophobia has been bouncing between my three brain cells since the QnA came out
> 
> I'm kinda proud of this, but I also kinda don't like it. Hope you enjoy it though!
> 
> (Constructive criticism is always appreciated!)


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